


Don't Say A Word

by jardinsdeminuit



Series: Corrupted Blood [3]
Category: Diabolik Lovers
Genre: Angst, Blood Drinking, Canon-Typical Behavior, Character Development, Childhood Trauma, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dubious Consent, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Established Relationship, F/M, Horror, Laito Confronts His Demons And He Doesn't Like It One Bit, Lemon, Oral Sex, Past Child Abuse, Smut, Suspense, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:20:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28803456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jardinsdeminuit/pseuds/jardinsdeminuit
Summary: It's been seven months since the attack, and just as Yui feels she has a handling on her relationship with Laito, she finds her life starting to fall apart yet again. Strange and terrifying changes are happening to her body, and she's not sure if she can accept, or even survive, them.Meanwhile, the return of a ghost from Laito's past forces him to confront his feelings for Yui and his place in the world.
Relationships: Komori Yui/Sakamaki Laito, Sakamaki Laito/Reader
Series: Corrupted Blood [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2050755
Comments: 44
Kudos: 58





	1. The Letter

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here it is, the third and final part of Corrupted Blood! I've been so excited to start this one. I'm aiming for a lot of chapters, perhaps even more than This Is No Fairytale, depending on how things go. With this being set over half a year down the line, the relationship dynamic between Laito and Yui is slightly different to start off with: the two are more comfortable with one another, Yui is more confident, and while Laito is still a manipulative bastard, he's just a little bit kinder to Yui. However, this is still based off Haunted Dark Bridal, so expect the usual nastiness!
> 
> Note: In this version of events, Cordelia's heart was never implanted into Yui, and she hasn't found out who she was yet. Since there's already a lot going on in this story, I thought adding in the Cordelia's heart storyline would just be treading over old ground.
> 
> While it's probably better to have read This Is No Fairytale and Blackest Eyes before this fic, it's perfectly understandable on its own, as most of the events don't lead on from the other two. As usual, comments are always welcome! ❤

**PART 1**

**APPREHENSION**

_I think I tolerate your hate as long as you're afraid_

_All I wanted was to be with you and suffer every day_

_—Don't Say A Word, Sonata Arctica_

As the hot water sprays from the shower onto my head, I bend over and retch.

The convulsions make my shoulders shake and my vision flash white. I reach out a hand and grab at the hanging bottle rack to steady myself. My knees tremble. I thought the steam from the hot shower would soothe my throat, but it only makes me gag more.

When I can finally breathe again, I straighten up. They're becoming more frequent, the coughing fits, at least once every couple of hours. To start with, I thought I'd picked up a virus of some kind, but for the past couple of days, I've been suspecting something more. The shortness of breath, the hot flushes, the random bouts of nausea, despite my rarely bringing anything up... Not to mention the fact that my period is a week late.

I tilt back my head, catch a little of the water in my mouth and swallow. Ever since the idea edged its way into my mind, it's sat there and grown, like a patch of mould on a piece of fruit, sapping away at my energy. Just thinking about it now, I feel like I could break down in a panic, but I take a breath and force myself to concentrate on the water falling over my head. It works until something tickles my throat, and then another round of coughing begins.

The sound of a door closing nearby meets my ears. Wheezing, I drag myself up and pull back the shower curtain as a figure steps over the edge of the bathtub to join me.

“Laito!”

He giggles. “Of course. Were you expecting someone else?”

“I wasn't expecting _anybody_.” I want to shoo him away, but as usual, the urge disappears before I can act on it. Trying to get Laito to listen is almost always a waste of effort.

He moves closer until the flow of water hits the top of his head, sticking his red hair to his cheeks and neck. Like me, he's completely naked. A peek around the side of the curtain shows me no pile of clothes on the floor, which means he probably walked here nude from his room, three doors down. I only hope he used a towel.

“Why so defensive, Bitch-chan?” His fingers trail from my waist to my thighs and back again. “I thought you'd enjoy some company. It must be lonely in here _all_ on your own.”

He drags out each word teasingly, making me grimace. As if I'd get lonely during the only time each day I have to myself in this mansion. Reaching for one of the bottles on the rack, I say, “I was actually about to wash my hair.”

Laito snatches the bottle up before I can reach it. “Allow me.”

Standing with my back to Laito as he massages shampoo into my hair, I feel a familiar sense of unease set in. There's no way he didn't pick up the sound of me coughing earlier. So far, I've been able to pass it off as illness, but it can't go on this way forever. If the symptoms continue, I'll have to build up the courage and tell him what I suspect.

I can't imagine a more terrifying situation.

It's not that Laito's particularly against fatherhood. He's never expressed a preference either way. And yet the idea of bringing a child into this relationship makes me feel sick. Laito may have improved somewhat since his clash with Handa over half a year ago, but it's just as likely that I'm simply more accustomed to his abuse now. A part of me has realised that life becomes easier when I do as he says, even if I still resist his physical teasing a lot of the time. Whether that's a victory or a loss, I'm still not sure.

In other words, life is just about tolerable for me right now. But a child in my position? The idea scares me more than the process of pregnancy itself.

“Something on your mind?”

Laito's voice brings me back to the present, and for the second time in minutes, I have to force the thoughts from my head. I can't give myself away, especially not to someone as perceptive as Laito.

“I'm fine,” I say.

Just for a moment, I feel Laito's fingers tighten in my hair, his nails digging into my scalp. Then he hums thoughtfully, reaches for the shower head and begins to wash out the shampoo.

*

Just over half a year. Seven months. That's how long it's been since Handa left Laito for dead out in the forest.

It's hard to say whether the time has gone quickly or slowly since then. On the one hand, the months have dragged since having settled into something of a routine here at the mansion. On the other, it feels like just last week that I ran away with Handa. At the back of my mind, I'm still waiting for him to deliver the punishment he promised me for betraying him at that time. It's too much to hope that he's simply let it slide. Alas, I have no choice but to wait and make the most of the life I have, even if that means bowing my head to a monster.

I walk over to Laito's chair and hang my wet towel over the back. Laito closes the door behind him. Once, I couldn't have imagined baring my naked body to him like this. As I make the short journey over to the end of his bed where my nightdress sits, I find my arms instinctually slipping over my chest. Not that it makes a difference. There isn't a part of my body that's mine anymore. He's seen me from every angle more times than I can count. Even now, I feel him eyeing my back like a wild predator.

Once I've slipped my nightdress over my head, I lie front-first on the bed and push my wet hair back over my shoulders. I may have only been out of the shower for a couple of minutes, but already a layer of sweat has begun to appear on my forehead. The heat that creeps through the open window is a dense, suffocating one. I've always been a fan of summer until it actually rolls around, at which point I find myself yearning for days when I can move around again without feeling like the very air is trying to drag me down.

The bed creaks as Laito crawls over. Before I can turn, he's climbed on top of me, knees either side of my thighs, arms wrapping around my neck.

“Wait, what are you—”

“Mm.” The feeling of his tongue sliding from the base of my neck up to my ear cuts me off. A new kind of heat rises in me. “You looked like you were suffering, so I thought I'd help you out.”

I try not to squirm as he licks me again, this time on my nape. I've come to realise that resisting Laito in these kinds of situations just spurs him on more, so I try to ignore his touch. My composure falls apart, however, when he slips a hand beneath the collar of my nightdress and spreads his fingers across one of my breasts.

“Laito.” My voice comes out as more of a gasp than a protest.

He giggles, clearly enjoying my reaction. “What's wrong, Bitch-chan?”

Maybe it's because of the time we spent together in the shower, but he seems overly heated. I can practically sense the energy coming off him, the enthusiasm with which he presses his lips to my neck and lets his hand roam my body. From afar, we probably look like the perfect couple. Sometimes, I like to pretend as much.

It helps me to forget how rotten things are on the inside.

I know I shouldn't resist him, but it's obvious he's not going to stop on his own, so I gather what strength I can, push off the bed and throw my shoulders back into him. We roll on the bed until Laito's beneath me, and then I flip around to sit on his waist, catch one wrist and pin it to the sheets beside his head. Just the seconds of movement are exhausting.

Shock colours Laito's face. I'm a little surprised at myself, too. It's not often I take control so readily _or_ forcefully.

“How unexpected,” Laito says, his expression melting into a smirk. “Not that I'm complaining. You know how much I _love_ this side of you, Bitch-chan.” His free hand shoots up, grabs a handful of my hair and pulls me down. “Within reason.”

With our faces so close our noses almost touch, there's no missing the slight narrowing of his acid green eyes. It's a warning: playful though his actions might be, we both know that Laito is the one in control of the situation. The only reason I can pin him down like this is because he's letting me.

Both of us know what happened the last and only time I managed to overpower him. It's obvious from these constant, subtle reminders that such a thing will _never_ happen again.

I lean forward until my lips brush his. A moment of uncertainty passes between us before we find our places. After so many months together, kissing Laito has become familiar enough that I can predict the movements of his mouth, the patterns his tongue traces against mine; and yet my body still tingles with excitement when I hear him moan, feel his hand flatten against the back of my head to draw me in closer. He juts his hips out a little, and I respond to his demand by rolling mine back to meet him, just enough to make both of us shudder.

It's only as I lift my head that my eyes catch something. A piece of paper sticks out from underneath Laito's pillow. I frown and reach for it.

“What's that?” Laito stays smiling up to the moment when he sees what I'm holding in my hand.

“I'm not sure.” It seems like a letter of some kind. The envelope is open, and from the slightly aged, crumpled look, has been handled many times before. On the front, Laito's name has been written in looping, feminine handwriting. Another name is on the back.

I read it out loud: “Cordelia.”

Laito snatches the letter away before I look anymore. While he doesn't seem angry, his actions are a little too jump for me to pass them off as normal.

“An old girlfriend?” is the first thought that comes to mind.

Now that he has the letter back in his possession, the tension drains from Laito's shoulders. He grins. “Jealous, are you?”

“No,” I say quickly. But the moment the word leaves my mouth, I feel something pull inside my chest. It's not so much the love letter as the fact he was keeping it underneath his pillow. Was he hoping to read it when I wasn't around?

I shake the feeling before it can manifest. I've never been jealous of Laito's past before and have no reason to be now. Besides, it's not like I don't have enough troubles weighing me down without worry over something I can't change.

Laito leans back and slips the letter under the bed. Then he runs a finger down my cheek. “Such a sad face.” His voice has taken on its usual light, condescending tone, though I sense something extra this time, a hint of anxiety that even he can't hide.

“I'm not sad,” I say, a little too defensively.

“No?”

Before I can respond to what's happening, Laito's flipped the pair of us over. He hovers above me, propped up on his arms, pinning me beneath him with his hips. His hair hangs past his nose in dark copper waves.

He giggles. “I never had you down as the jealous type, Bitch-chan. Then again, they say relationships thrive on a little envy, don't they? You're going to make me blush at this rate.”

To illustrate his point, he closes his eyes and lets out a sigh. I want to say he's wrong, but there's no way I can make it convincing when even now, the feelings are stirring inside me once again.

 _Cordelia._ I can't remember ever hearing the name before, and yet for some reason, it sounds familiar.

As Laito lowers his head for another kiss, I try to push the thought away, but like the pain of a splinter wedged beneath a nail, it keeps on coming back. She's probably an old girlfriend, just like he said. Nothing more.

So why can't I shake the feeling that I've stumbled upon something I never should've seen?


	2. Sound Advice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Returning to this series has reminded me how much coming up with chapter titles >.<

Ayato leans back on the sofa, stretches out his arms and sighs. “Oi, Laito.”

His brother doesn't respond from the nearby sofa. His gaze never leaves the crescent moon, visible through the tall living room window. Scowling, Ayato grabs a cushion and throws it at him. “I said _oi_.”

Laito snaps from his trance just in time to catch the cushion before it hits his face. For a moment, he looks like he's about to send it back, but then he changes directions and throws it at Subaru, who's sitting on the other end of Ayato's sofa, fiddling with some kind of puzzle box in his hands.

“Hey, what the fuck—” Subaru's protest is cut short as the cushion slams into his chin. He throws it and the puzzle box to the floor and growls, “Don't involve me in your stupid bullshit just because you can't find anything better to do.”

“Hmm, you have a point,” says Laito, turning his eyes lazily back to the window. “This is boring. Didn't we come down here to play a game or something?”

“That's what _I_ was going to suggest,” snaps Ayato. “I'm not going outside in this heat, though. I feel like my brain's melting just sitting here.”

“Who said anything about going outside?” The corners of Laito's lips rise, and he turns his head towards the doorway when I'm waiting. Ayato follows his gaze.

“How long are you going to stand there and gawk, Chichinashi? Either come over and entertain us or get out.”

They probably know I've been watching them for about a minute now, though I'm surprised it's taken them this long to address me. It's so rare to see any of them in a room together like this without some kind of major conflict going on that I got a little carried away.

“Sorry.” I have to force myself to remember what it was that I came in here for. “I was wondering if any of you had seen Reiji.”

Ayato turns away, clearly having lost interest the moment his brother's name is mentioned.

“He's not in his room?” asks Laito.

I shake my head. I've already tried knocking on his door to no response, as well as checked all the usual places he frequents throughout the night. Asking around was my last resort.

“I think I saw him in the garden an hour ago,” mutters Subaru.

The news comes as a surprise. Out of all the brothers, Reiji seems like the one least likely to venture outside. Except for Shu, of course, who rarely leaves the sofa, let alone the house. Still, I thank them and turn to leave. There's no saying Reiji will still be there, but it's worth a try.

I walk back along the corridor and sigh. Ayato was right about one thing: it really _is_ too hot for comfort, especially in an old mansion like this. What I wouldn't give to be sitting underneath an air conditioner right now. I'd even tie my hair up into a rare ponytail to give my head and shoulders room to breathe if it didn't mean revealing the marks left behind from last night.

As I turn the corner at the end of the corridor, I jump. Leaning against the wall in front of me is Laito. After all this time, I'm still caught out by the vampires' uncanny ability to teleport short distances.

The same wry smile from the living room is painted across Laito's face. “So, tell me, Bitch-chan. Why are you looking for Reiji?”

As always, the intensity of his eyes makes even the simplest of questions feel like a full-on interrogation. Luckily, I already have an answer planned: “I want to borrow a book from him.”

It's hard to tell from Laito's expression whether he believes the lie. Not that he has any reason to doubt me. I've borrowed books from Reiji's extensive collection before. So long as I return them in flawless condition, he's never had a problem with it.

Laito pushes off the wall and takes a step towards me. His hand runs down my cheek, then drops, predictably, to the bite marks at the base of my neck. “You wouldn't happen to be cheating on me, would you?”

“With your _brother_?” Even though I know half the things Laito says are designed to get a reaction from me, I don't bother hiding the disgust in my voice.

He giggles and flicks at one of the wounds, sending a stab of pain through me. I swat his hand away.

“Just don't forget who you belong to,” are his final words before he saunters past me and disappears around the corridor.

As if there's any chance of that happening.

Just like Subaru said, I find Reiji in the greenhouse at the end of the manor's sprawling gardens. He turns as I slide open the door.

“I suppose you've come to disturb me,” he mutters, turning his attention back to the tray of saplings he's watering.

“Well, yes... and no. I've actually come for advice.”

“Oh?” Evidently, I've peaked Reiji's interest, as he places his watering can on the floor and gives me his full attention. Despite the heat, he's wearing his usual waistcoat and white shirt combination.

“That's right.” I've imagined this conversation in my head countless times in the lead up to this moment, but now that I'm here, trapped in his gaze, I feel like the words are stuck in my throat. I decide to come straight out with it. “I think... I might be pregnant.”

The silence that falls over the greenhouse is so thick it's almost tangible. Finally, Reiji scoffs and says, in the dryest, most sarcastic tone he can muster, “Congratulations.”

His reaction is more or less what I predicted, but it's hard not to feel a little disheartened at his apathy. He seems no more interested than if I told him I'd just found a shiny rock on the floor.

“That's not what I mean,” I say, taking a step forward. “The truth is, I'm not really sure if I am or not.”

“Why are you telling me this? I'm not a doctor, neither do I care about what you and Laito do behind closed doors.”

“I just thought you'd be able to help me,” I say, the colour rising in my cheeks. “You've always been the most knowledgeable when it comes to anything scientific, and I guess I trust your judgement more than anyone else in this house.”

It seems my compliment has paid off, as Reiji sighs and turns back to his plants. “Tell me your symptoms, then.”

“I feel sick sometimes, have headaches, hot flushes... And every few hours, I break out into violent coughs.”

“Coughs? Sounds more like a viral infection to me. Perhaps you should rule that out first.”

I had a feeling Reiji would jump to the same conclusion as me. “That's what I thought to start with, but I'm not so sure anymore.”

“Have you bled recently?”

“I'm a week late.”

For the first time since coming in here, I notice Reiji's shoulders tighten. “Well, that is a problem, isn't it?” He raises his head and looks at me. “I don't know what you want me to tell you, Yui. My only advice is to get a home test the next time you're in town. Or you could always wait. I'm sure things will become obvious in time.”

I stare at the ground before his feet, not wanting to meet his eyes. “So, it's possible, then? For a human and vampire to have a child, I mean.”

Reiji waits a second. “Of course it's possible.”

Sensing that I'm not going to get much more from him, I say my thanks and slide the door open, but before I leave, one last thought comes to me. I turn to Reiji and say, “Please don't tell Laito about this. He think I'm coming to borrow a book from you.”

A smile lifts Reiji's lips. “Lying to Laito, are we? As I recall, that rarely turns out well. But no, I won't tell him what you suspect. That is, unless he asks specifically.”

I nod and let the hint of relief flow spread through me. Considering how low the chances of that are, it's the best response I can ask for.

*

I enter Laito's room with my throat aching from the coughing fit I've just had on the way here. There's nothing strange about my being here alone – Laito and I more or less share this room nowadays – but I still try to step lightly. With any luck, I'll be in and out before anyone notices.

 _Cordelia._ Ever since reading the name last night, it hasn't left my mind. This isn't like me. I'm not the nosy kind, and even though Laito's made it clear to me that he'd taken countless women before I came into his life, I've never let it bother me before. This one, though, has sunk beneath my skin and plunged its claws in.

Perhaps it's because I know her name. Or maybe it's Laito's reaction to me finding the letter beneath his pillow, his snatching it off me, the anxious undertone to his voice as he teased me for my curiosity. I shouldn't care. It's not as if I love him. What binds me to Laito's side is equal parts fear and a sense of familiarity, the same way an alcoholic pours themselves another measure of spirits, despite knowing it's the very substance destroying their body. Love has nothing to do with it.

Why, then, do I feel like a hand is clamping around my heart when I think of Cordelia?

I find the letter not under the bed where he left it, but in the top drawer of his bedside cabinet, tucked beneath a length of rope and all manner of other personal objects he keeps in there. Clearly, he's tried to hide it from me, albeit with minimum effort.

My hands are trembling as I pull the letter from the envelope and unfold it. It's a single page, one-sided, written in the same beautiful, looping handwriting as the names on the front and back. I skim over the words. It seems like a standard love letter, peppered with flowery language about what Laito means to her, how much she adores every moment they spend together, and so on. Nothing strikes me as odd.

Until I reach the last couple of lines.

_Ever since the moment you were born, I've known you were special. Ayato might have his place as the eventual head of this family, but you are, and will always remain, my precious Laito. I love you._

I have to read the words several times until they begin to make sense. So, this Cordelia was around when Laito was born... I've never considered he might maintain a relationship with someone that much older than him. Was she involved with the family somehow? A friend of his mother?

Yet the more I consider it, the more a feeling of violent unease grows in my gut. There's something overly familiar about the letter, not to mention the fact she talks about Ayato as well. It's almost... maternal.

That makes me think. How much do I know about Laito's parents, anyway? I've heard Karlheinz's name thrown around here and there, and Reiji mentioned once that he and Shu have a different mother to the triplets and Subaru. Apart from that, nothing. I don't even know their names.

If Cordelia really is Laito's mother, then why would she write him something like this, as if he were a lover? The letter even implies they've slept together. It feels too horrible to be real. It _can't_ be real. All I can assume is that there's some obvious piece of information I'm glossing over that'll set my mind straight and make me realise what a ridiculous conclusion I've drawn.

I slip the letter back into the envelope, place it in the drawer where I found it and leave. I've seen enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, Laito has a BDSM drawer. I don't make the rules.


	3. The Watcher in the Dark

“You're not pregnant.”

It takes a few seconds for the doctor's words to sink in. “A-are you sure?”

“Yes. At least, according to your blood sample here.”

A shaky breath escapes my lips. I feel like a physical weight has been lifted off my chest.

“Can I assume from your reaction that this was an unplanned pregnancy?”

“Very much so.”

The doctor, a middle-aged woman with a thin face and black hair in a ponytail, turns back to the monitor on the desk before her. “At this point, it wouldn't have mattered if you'd come to us or done a test at home. Your hormones give a clear indication. You said it's been a week since your period was supposed to start, didn't you?”

I nod.

“That's more than enough time to give an accurate result, then.” She gives me an encouraging smile, which I return weakly.

It feels strange sitting here in this clinic, as if I'm just a normal girl with normal problems for the first time in almost a year. I've known about it for a while now, passed by often in town, knowing that it's a place for young couples to walk in and seek sexual health advice. Never in my life did I think I'd end up needing it myself.

“Is there a reason I'm so late?” I ask. “I've always been regular in the past.”

“Hmm, it's normal for girls your age to have late periods, or even miss them altogether. Stress can be a reason. Have you been particularly stressed recently?”

I want to laugh at her question. 'Stress' doesn't even begin to cover my life. I wonder how she'd react if I told her the reality: that I've been held captive by a group of vicious vampires for the past nine months, tortured, mocked and bitten on a daily basis. All I'd have to do would be to pull down the collar of my shirt to show her the marks left behind by Laito's fangs. Or maybe I should remove my right sock and reveal the bruises on my calf from where he dug his nails into me a few days ago.

But of course, I can't, so I simply shake my head.

“I shouldn't think it's anything to worry about. Although there was one thing I noticed in the sample you provided.”

I look up at her with wide eyes. “What is it?”

The doctor points to a part of the monitor. “This graph shows that the sugar and iron levels in your blood are extremely low. Almost dangerously so.” When she turns back to me, her expression is stern. “Have you ever suffered from anaemia before?”

With the amount of times Laito sucks my blood, I should've expected something like this. My mind races as I try to come up with a plausible lie that won't have her asking further questions. “A couple of times. Mainly when I was a child. It was never that bad, though.”

“Well, this seems fairly serious. It could explain the headaches and sickness you've been having.”

“And the coughing?”

“Maybe, but it's not a common symptom.” The doctor leans forward in her chair and gives me another smile. “Unfortunately, as a charity with limited funds, we can't test for respiratory viruses or anything that isn't directly related to sexual health. My advice is to see a GP about your anaemia, tell them about your coughing fits, and see where they go from there.”

I leave the clinic feeling the lightest I have for weeks. All this time, I've been making myself sick with worry that I'll have to bear Laito's child, when it was all for nothing. I feel like I could sing.

Needless to say, there are still a couple of problems that need attention. My anaemia, for one. The doctor ended the conversation with a lecture about looking after myself, giving me a list of foods to eat more of and over-the-counter medications I can take to increase the iron levels in my blood. On top of that, there's the issue of telling Laito about all of it. I'm still not sure how to approach the subject, or even when to do so. A part of me wants to get it out of the way with the moment I get back. He'll understand, I'm sure. It's not as if I've hidden any solid information from him, just a suspicion that hasn't left my mind. There's nothing wrong with that.

Isn't there?

The thought makes me stop dead in the middle of the path. I've had my reasons not to tell Laito what's been going round my head. For starters, I didn't want to worry him. Or rather, I didn't want to cause more stress for _myself_ by having him asking questions. Better that I find out for certain. And now that I have, surely he'll appreciate a more solid explanation.

Then again, it's hard to tell with Laito. He has a way of sinking beneath my skin and reading my emotions with little more than a look. He's known something's been wrong for a while, but hasn't spoken to me about it. Either he doesn't care, or he's waiting for me to tell him myself.

And that's not even starting on the letter I found last night.

I force myself to keep walking again. If I enter that mental spiral again, there's no way I'll be able to pull myself up, and I've spent enough energy over the past day worrying about that. I've resolved to keep quiet about it. Whoever Cordelia is and what kind of relationship she had with Laito is none of my business. The more I tell myself that, the more it'll begin to sink in. At least, that's what I hope, because at the moment, it feels like a stinging itch that I can only scratch by delving deeper.

I turn a corner and head towards the bright lights of the main street. A quick glance at my watch tells me I have half an hour before the last bus home. I told Laito I was going to buy a table fan for the room, and since I spent less time at the clinic that anticipated, I still have time to pick one up. Most of the smaller shops are closed by now, but luckily, there's a department store a little way along the road that's open until late. If that doesn't sell what I need, then nowhere will.

As I pass an alley on the way to the street, something catches my eye. A figure stands there in the dark. Normally, I wouldn't pay attention to such people, especially since I'm on my own, but there's something eerie about the way his eyes follow me. Not to mention his outfit of a waistcoat and long jacket looks like something that hasn't been in fashion for centuries.

I pause on the path and look him up and down. He smiles and tilts his head inquisitively, but doesn't speak.

“You're a... familiar, aren't you?” I say. I've only seen the creatures from a distance before, servants of the Sakamakis that act as conduits between the Human and Demon Realms. I'm not even sure if this one can understand me.

“Have you been watching me?”

Again, the man gives no reply. A stab of panic hits me as I realise the answer is probably 'yes'.

Suddenly, he takes a step forward. I back up, afraid he's going to lunge for me, but then his body begins to shift. His limbs shrink back into his clothing, and his black jacket becomes a pair of wings that spread wide. When I blink, what remains in front of me isn't a man, but a bat no bigger than my hand.

I'm too stunned to do anything but duck as the the creature dives for my head. Then it darts upwards and disappears behind the nearest building, clearly eager to get back to the mansion with news of where I've been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It always feels so weird remembering that there is a modern world going on outside the Sakamaki mansion. Reiji seems like the kind of person who'd ban all unnecessary electronics in the house because "TV causes brain rot", or something like that.
> 
> After uploading the first two chapters, I received so many comments on here and Tumblr about Yui getting pregnant, and here I was silently sweating because it was all just a scare. I'm sorry for those of you who were excited! But believe me when I say this is going to cause problems down the line... :')
> 
> Thanks for reading and reviewing!


	4. Beg

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no upload! Sorry it's been a few days longer than usual ^^' Schedules don't exist in the Quarantine™

The sound of piano reaches my ears long before I reach the music room. The melody reverberates through the hallways of the old mansion, as heavy and sombre as the grey stone walls themselves. When I reach the door, I pause with my hand on the wood for a moment. The music slows a little before picking up again. It's a subtle change, but I know it's Laito's way of saying he knows I'm there outside the room without having to shout it out.

With a deep breath, I open the door and step inside.

As usual, the lamps are off. The light of the moon streaming in through the huge window at the far end of the room illuminates Laito and the grand piano he sits at. He doesn't look at me as I close the door and walk over. Even when I'm standing behind him, watching his white hands dance across the keys, he keeps his head forward.

I place a tentative hand on his shoulder. Only then does he stop.

The silence that descends upon the room is so heavy, I can almost hear my own blood pumping in my temples. Not that that's unusual when I'm around Laito. He leans his head back into my chest and exhales softly. “How unusual for you to come to me yourself, Bitch-chan. Did you miss me that badly?”

As usual, it's impossible to tell from the smile on Laito's face whether or not he's hiding something. The image of the familiar watching me from the alley is still fresh in my mind. I'm still not sure whether every familiar serves the whole family, or if each creature answers to one brother as their personal servant, so there's no way for me to tell if Laito knows where I've been. I'm going to take the risk, either way.

“Actually, I wanted to speak to you about something.”

“Hmm?” The piano stall squeaks as Laito stands up. Although there's only a few inches in height between us, I feel like he's towering over me. “Whatever would you want to talk to _me_ about?”

He's playing dumb. I know he is. The piercing glare of his eyes, the way his voice sounds just that extra bit singsong, as if he's trying to eke a confession out of me without raising a hand, the same way a spider entices a fly to willingly throw itself into its web.

I decide to get it over with. Staring at his shoulder to avoid his gaze, I say, “I wasn't lying when I said I was going shopping in town. But there was something else I did while there.” The words fall out of me in a rush. I force myself to take a calming breath before continuing. “You know I haven't been myself these past couple of weeks. These... symptoms I've been having. I thought I was pregnant.”

Laito places a hand on my cheek. “'Thought'?”

“Yes. I went to a doctor tonight and they did a blood test. It's fine, Laito. I'm not pregnant.”

I thought delivering those words would bring me the same kind of relief as the doctor giving me my results, but I feel like my ribcage has tightened. Laito's hand slips beneath my jaw and tilts my head up to look at him. The couple of seconds I spend looking into his eyes feel like hours.

“A doctor, huh?” His voice barely breaks a whisper. “Did you show them anything else?”

I can feel his nails digging into my jaw. It's not hard, but enough to remind me that it'll only take a twist of his hand to rip into my skin. Of course, he's referrring to my bite marks. I shake my head. “No.”

“Are you sure, Bitch-chan? That would be a big problem, you know? I'd have to do _all_ sorts of horrible things to you to make sure it doesn't happen again.” His voice may drip like honey, but his words make me shiver.

“I didn't show them anything. They didn't even take my name. I swear it.” I try to pour as much conviction into my words as I can and pray that he believes me. My head swirls nauseatingly. All I can think about are the nails at my jaw and the eyes that grind down my resolve simply by staring into my own.

But whether by the conviction in my words or my pounding heartbeat, Laito seems to take my words as truth. He loosens his grip and runs the back of his fingers across my cheek, like he's soothing a panicked animal. “So much fear in your eyes. Is that why you hid it all from me? Were you scared?”

I'm not sure which would give him more satisfaction: lying through gritted teeth, or telling him the truth he already knows.

That I am utterly terrified of him in every way.

With a giggle, Laito turns me around and pushes me against the piano. A bolt of pain shoots up my back as I hit the keyboard. He flips down the lid down, then slips his hands around the back of my thighs and lifts me up onto the seat. It's an awkward position, with the piano's hard top edge digging into my spine and Laito forcing himself between my legs, but I just about manage it.

Laito claims my lips forcefully, holding my face with both hands as he leans into me. I grab hold of his shirt to balance myself. He takes this as a sign of encouragement and pushes his hips forward until I'm pinned between him and the piano.

When he pulls back, I'm surprised to see Laito's cheeks are slightly flushed. Usually, I'm the one who gets flustered at these kinds of encounters, not the other way around.

“Bitch-chan, you're still so tense,” he purrs.

I glance at the door. “What if someone comes in?”

“Then they'll see you completely helpless, red from head to toe, begging for me to pleasure you more.” The tone of Laito's voice makes it obvious he'd welcome such a situation. He tilts my head backwards and drops his lips to my neck. His tongue darts out and licks my skin. I can't help but let out a small gasp.

“I was scared for us.”

I don't even realise the words have left my mouth until Laito looks up. “Scared... for us?”

“Yes.” The wetness his tongue has left behind is cold, but not entirely unpleasant. “I wasn't sure if I was ready to be a parent. Or if you were, either.”

Laito's eyes narrow slightly. The change reminds me of the moment he snatched the letter from me a couple of days ago, except where panic took over back then, here I sense anger. Before I can properly read it, the smirk returns to his face.

“You're right. I have no intention of being a father, especially to a half-human offspring.” Between words, Laito plants a series of kisses down my front, slowly dropping lower and lower.

I don't know why, but his words cut deep. “So, you'd change your mind if I were a vampire?”

Laito pauses with his lips against my thigh. “Why ask questions when you know you won't like the answer?”

I frown. Does that mean he'll only consider me fit for procreation if I become a vampire like him, or is he averse to the whole idea of parenthood altogether?

Apparently satisfied with my bemused expression, Laito pushes up my skirt and lays a kiss against my bare thigh. He's kneeling in front of me now, his face level with my hips. I've been in this position too many times to have any doubts as to what's going to happen next.

Sure enough, Laito draws in a breath. I catch a glimpse of his fangs in the moonlight before he buries them in the flesh of my inner thigh. The sharp but familiar pain makes me wince, though I know better than to try and fight him off. Not that I'm desperate to. The sound of his breathy moans, the soft gulping as he downs my blood, all of it flicks a switch inside me, and before I know it, I'm aching for him to carry on.

Laito pulls back and looks down at the spot he's just sucked from with raised eyebrows. He's told me in the past that changes in emotion can change the flavour of my blood in a way that only a vampire would be able to detect. My face flushes red as I realise he must have picked up on my sudden wave of desire.

“Bitch-chan, that's _so_ naughty of you,” he whispers. His hands are already taking hold of my underwear, sliding it down my legs. “All I have to do is bite you once and you start to melt.” He leans back so that he can slip the garment off my feet, then takes his place between my legs again. “I wonder how you'd react if I put my mouth somewhere else.”

My breaths feel shallow in my chest. I'm not sure if it's from excitement, fear, or a mixture of both. I want to him continue, though I'm sure the part of me thinking that is nothing more than pure lust. In the back of my head, I know I'm in danger. I always am when Laito and I are alone. More than that, there's a chance the door could swing open at any moment, and one of the brothers could walk in on us in this position.

All those thoughts leave my mind when Laito's tongue meet my heat. He starts slowly, lapping up the wetness that clings to my lips, before turning his attention to my clit. A hard flick of his tongue makes me throw my head back and gasp. He giggles.

“How long will you be able to keep your voice down, I wonder? I suspect the others are close by, and we vampires have wonderful hearing, after all.”

He lowers his head again, breath hot against my opening, tongue swirling my clit with just the right amount of teasing pressure that I feel like I'm about to fall apart. It's hard to find a comfortable position on the piano, but I just about manage by pushing my hips forward and wrapping my fingers in his hair to hold him in place. Every movement of his tongue adds to the mounting warmth that twists at the base of my stomach, like a spring coiling tighter and tighter, ready to leap free with just the right nudge.

It's embarrassing how little it takes to sway me nowadays. If the me from a year ago knew that I'd be sitting out in the open like this, not only allowing but _encouraging_ a demon to have his way with me, I'm sure I would have been utterly horrified. Now here I am, on the verge of begging for his touch. I'm filthy. Corrupted.

But God, does it feel _good_.

I know I'll come to regret these thoughts later on. I often do. But for now, I dig my nails into Laito's scalp and try not to think of anything but the feeling of his mouth against me, biting my bottom lip to keep from crying out. Laito doesn't take the same precaution. He moans as he pushes his tongue inside me, warm and wet wherever it touches. His lips move in the same long, hungry motions he uses to kiss me. It's maddening.

He takes the leg he bit and lifts it onto his shoulder. I catch a glimpse of green eyes, and then he leans forward again, taking me with all the force he can. I want it to go on longer, want to bask in the depravity of it all for just a little more, but it only takes a moment for my body to reach its breaking point. My climax tears through me with the force of a river breaking its banks in a storm. I bend over Laito and open my mouth in a soundless cry. Every part of my body clenches, shudders, rocks in the wake of the sensations pulsing through me.

When I finally recover, I realise Laito is staring up at me from between my legs. The bottom half of his face shines in the moonlight. He's utterly beautiful – painfully so. Sometimes I wish he wasn't. If that were the case, it would be easier to remind myself that he's a monster in moments like these, when I'm so enraptured by him and the way he uses my body's own pleasure against me that I find it impossible to refuse him.

He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me onto his lap, then pushes me down on the floor. I'm still overly sensitive from my climax, but I open my legs to him and pull him into my arms. I can taste myself on him when our lips meet.

“Laito,” I whisper, my head spinning.

“It's okay, Bitch-chan,” he purrs into my neck as he slips his trousers down. “Let's fall into a sea of ecstasy together, right here.”

This time, I can't keep my voice down.


	5. Red Spots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the slow update once again! I'm trying to plan this story out properly, which is difficult, because there's so much I want to include. While I rarely plan more than the next few chapters at any one time, I really want to try and get the pacing right. So far, I'm more or less happy with the way it's going. The next chapter is one I've had in my head for a long time, so I'll try and be quicker before updating!

I'm just adding the final spices to the simmering pot on the stove when Ayato marches into the kitchen and shoves a piece of paper in my face. “Oi, Chichinashi. You coming to this?”

I have to step back to see what he's holding. It's a flyer for a summer festival. “I mean... sure, if you want me to. When is it?”

“This Saturday. It's actually quite fun. There are food stands, games, and all kinds of shit to buy. We go every year. Well, I say 'we', but Shu can never be bothered, the four-eyes says he's busy and Subaru goes on his own if he does, so it usually ends up being me, Laito and Kanato.” Nodding to the stove, Ayato asks, “What's that?”

“Tomato and garlic soup.” I turn back to the pot, which has started to bubble, and give it a stir. “Would you like some?”

He wrinkles his nose. “Gross.”

His answer hardly surprises me. In all the time I've lived here, I've never seen Ayato eat anything that hasn't been deep fried. On the other hand, I still need to eat normally, and batch cooking a whole pot like this is easier than getting out ingredients twice a day, especially with Reiji criticising me for the tiniest amount of mess I leave behind.

I watch Ayato in my peripheral vision as I slowly stir the soup. It still feels strange that he's talking to me. Up until a couple of months ago, he would go out of his way to ignore me, and if we did happen to be in the same room together, he'd glare daggers at me until I removed myself from his space. Then one day, everything changed. I was walking out to the garden when Ayato came up to me, rambling on as normal, as if he hadn't just spent the last few months trying to burn a hole into me with his eyes.

Of course, I knew the reason behind it all. I'd be stupid not to. Ayato had been furious when I'd stabbed Laito and run away. The two had never even seemed that close before, though I suspect his anger had more to do with the damaged pride of knowing that a human had overcome a member of his family than genuine concern for his brother's welfare. Now, whether by the time that's elapsed or simply because he finds it too exhausting to hate a member of his own household so fiercely, he's let it all go. I haven't tried to run away again. Handa is dead. Laito hasn't mentioned it since. In the eyes of everyone involved, it's over.

Except it's not. At least, not to me. I still feel on edge being around Ayato like this, remembering all too vividly the way he'd threatened me outside Laito's room, the mixture of hatred and glee that had lit up his eyes as he'd described exactly what he and his brother were going to do to me down in the dungeon. Just like Laito's promised punishment that has never come, a part of me still wonders if Ayato is waiting for the perfect moment to snap, and all of this friendliness is no more than an act to lower my guard.

I try and push those thoughts from my head, and instead turn my attention to something Ayato said a moment ago. “You, Laito and Kanato. You're triplets, aren't you?”

Only when the words leave my mouth do I realise that even for small talk, it's a stupid observation. Ayato's frown says as much. “Course we are. You think just 'cause we don't look alike, we're not siblings?”

“That's not what I meant,” I say with a shake of my head. I've been wanting to dig around this subject a while, and Ayato has provided the perfect excuse to do so without it seeming suspicious. “I mean you share the same parents, don't you?”

“Well, yeah. But _I'm_ the oldest.” His shoulders stiffen suddenly. “Why are you so interested? Has Laito been running his mouth or something?”

I tell him no, and this time, I can honestly say it's the truth. “I'm just curious.”

“Well, stop being curious,” Ayato snaps. “There's nothing to say about my parents. The pair of them could die in a fire and I wouldn't give a shit.”

The pout he makes reminds me of a typical, moody teenager, instead of the centuries-old vampire he is at heart. I should be used to harsh words coming from his mouth by now, but the hatred with which he speaks about his own parents still manages to shock me.

Turning off the stove and placing the lid on top of the pot, I mumble, “I never knew my mother. Not even her name.”

“Hmm?” Ayato clicks his tongue. “Count yourself lucky. I had to endure a whole childhood of hearing that bitch's name thrown about. 'Cordelia' this and 'Cordelia' that. Just hearing it now pisses me off.”

I freeze. The spoon I'm holding slips out of my fingers, spattering the floor with drops of tomato soup where it lands.

Ayato jumps back. “What the fuck, Chichinashi?”

“S-sorry.” I bend over and reach out a hand for the spoon, only to find my whole arm trembling. The world feels like it's falling away around me. All I can think about is what Ayato just said.

 _Cordelia... is their mother._ The fact that the idea has occurred to me before makes it no easier to accept. If anything, it intensifies the horror by confirming what I've feared.

It has to be another Cordelia. Or if not, then I must have wildly misinterpreted that letter. Somehow, _somewhere_ , I've made a mistake. The implications of it all are just too horrible to accept otherwise.

The sound of Ayato's voice calling for me brings me back. Something grips my elbow. It takes me a moment to realise he's holding me just inches off the ground.

I allow him to pull me back to my feet. He stares at me with fierce green eyes, clearly wondering what's come over me.

“I-I'll clear it up in a minute. I... I don't feel well,” I mutter before dashing for the door. A part of me fears Ayato is going to follow, but luckily he stays where he is.

I need space to process what I've just found out. Even if that means running out to the garden and spending a couple of minutes in the fresh air to get my thoughts in order. My body feels strangely heavy, to the point where just moving my legs along the corridor requires a huge amount of effort. But I force myself anyway. I have no other choice.

It starts as a familiar tickle in my throat. Before I can stop it, I'm bent double, coughing my lungs up. I reach out a hand and push against the wall by my side, scrabbling for a handhold to stop me from keeling over completely. I only just manage to do so.

When the fit passes, I'm shaking again. My head spins nauseatingly. I'm more than used to these coughing bouts, but this one somehow feels worse, as if the inside of my lungs have been torn up with a blade.

Gasping, I pull my hand back from my mouth. What I see makes my eyes widen. A series of bright red spots paint my palm.

Blood. I've coughed up blood.


	6. Scent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, I can't believe it's been a month since I last updated this. Please rest assured that this story isn't dead and I have no intention of stopping writing, even if updates might be slow-ish while I have several projects on the run. This is the chapter I had in the mind right from the beginning of this fic, which probably contributed to my anxiousness in writing it. Overall, I'm happy with how it turned out. Yui has been subjected to a lot of confusion in this section of the fic, though things are going to start making sense for her soon. Or not. We'll have to see :') Leave a comment if you enjoyed!

The day of the summer festival rolls around sooner than expected. As evening falls, I change into the sky blue and ivory yukata laid out for me on the bed and wrap the matching obi around my waist. I feel like I should do something with my hair for the special occasion, especially since I don't have bite marks on my neck to cover up for the first time in recent memory. In the end, I decide to pull back my hair into a loose bun and secure it with a ribbon. It's a simple change, but a refreshing one.

The limo drops us off at the edge of the park. It's nestled in a housing estate just outside the centre of Kaminashi. I remember coming here once with Laito last autumn, when the trees were turning brown and the weather bitter. Now, stepping out into the night, it's hard to remember a time when the heat wasn't pressing down like it is. Without the air conditioning of the limo, I already feel like I'm suffocating in the heavy night air.

Up ahead, the stalls that make up the festival cast a warm, orange glow against the trees. Judging by the babble and figures I can see moving about, it's busy. The fact fills me with relief: the more people around, the less likely it is for the triplets to try something unsavoury.

Laito stretches his arms above his head and lets out a short sigh. His forest green flower-pattered yukata clings to his skinny waist. It's the first time I've seen him wear anything traditional. In fact, I don't think I've put on anything like this since my days at the church. Ayato has chosen a simpler black yukata, whereas Kanato's is striped pale blue.

“I hope they have those sweet potato sticks from last year. They were good,” says Laito.

“Screw that,” Ayato snaps. “I've waited weeks for takoyaki. I'm going to see if I can beat last year's record.”

“How many was that, again?” asks Laito, suddenly sounding extremely uninterested.

Ayato counts up on his fingers in increments of six. “Thirty-six. No... Thirty-eight. I finished off yours as well, didn't I, Kanato?”

“Please don't involve me in your stupid games,” Kanato mutters, hugging Teddy to his chest.

“Well, whatever. There's no rule saying we _have_ to stick together. Ayato can go off and give himself a stomach rupture, and we can look around on our own. Right, Bitch-chan?”

“Sure,” I mutter dryly.

Laito looks at me, but says nothing. It'd be impossible for him not to have noticed my aloofness over the past few days. Ever since Ayato dropped the revelation about Cordelia, I've found it even harder than usual to be around Laito. Perhaps a part of me is still in denial about it all. The longer I hold back from approaching the subject, the better chance I have of just forgetting and going back to what we had before.

 _What we had before..._ Even now, I'm not sure what that was. My relationship with Laito has never been anything more than a few happy moments interspersed between long periods of misery, but at least I never had to worry about something like this before. Every time I look at Laito, my mind returns to that letter. Or, more specifically, those closing lines I can repeat by now without having to think: Y _ou are, and will always remain, my precious Laito. I love you._

Noticing I'm spacing out, Laito grabs me by the wrist and pulls me into him sharply. Just the feeling of his skin on mine makes me want to recoil.

I wonder if Cordelia knows what it's like to be held by these hands.

“Something wrong, Bitch-chan?”

I look up to see Laito staring at me. Despite the upturn of his lips, his eyes are cold.

“Nothing. I'm fine.” I give a practised smile and look towards the festival to avoid his gaze.

Even though Laito mentioned splitting up, we remain a four as we pass under an arch and approach the first set of stalls. Lanterns and banners hang above a walkway bristling with bodies. I was expecting the majority of people in attendance to be of my age this late at night, but surprisingly, there are visitors from every generation here, from elderly couples to families with young children. Ayato walks in front, while Laito guides me along with his arm around my shoulders and Kanato lags behind. I feel like I'm caged in on all sides.

To distract myself, I turn my head and look at the stalls we pass. Most of them sell the kind of trinkets I've come to expect at festivals like this: jewellery, handmade fans, soap – the sort of things that seem like a worthwhile investment at the time, but end up being left on a shelf, untouched, for the rest of their days. Others serve typical festival food. The smells of _karaage_ and hot buttered corn mix with sickly sweet caramel and artificial strawberry, creating a mess of aromas that turns my stomach. I hoped that after barely eating anything all day, coming here would restore my appetite, but even the thought of eating makes me recoil.

“Hmm? Where's Kanato?” Laito pulls us both to a stop, prompting Ayato to do the same.

I turn my head to see Kanato standing over a sweets display a few stalls back. His eyes are wider than those of a miner who's just struck diamond.

“Well, this seems like a good spot to split up,” says Laito. “What's say we meet back here in an hour?”

“Fine by me,” says Ayato, and walks off without another word.

Alone with Laito at last, I sense a chill ripple through my veins. It's a similar feeling to what I experienced those first few weeks after moving into the manor, back when I was still getting to know my new housemates and believed that the slightest misstep would result in my violent death. Not that much has changed, but at least the sense of routine and familiarity I have with the Sakamakis means I won't be killed for no reason anytime soon. Probably.

Laito drums his fingers against my shoulder. For once in his life, it seems he's at a loss for what to do. I can't even remember how long it's been since we last did something as a couple like this.

I turn my head up. His eyes are fixed on something ahead. I follow his gaze to see a young woman and her partner sitting on a bench, sharing a cup of shaved ice. I assume he's staring at the woman's bare legs, until I realise there's something lingering in his expression. It almost feels like... sadness.

A memory comes back to me of Ayato, Laito and I sitting in a cafe in the centre of Kaminashi. I'd been watching another couple steal ice cream from one another on a nearby table and thinking about how carefree they'd looked. Laito had noticed me looking and jabbed his thumb into my hand to draw my attention away. For some reason, the memory is burnt into my mind. The couple sitting on the bench remind me of that pair in the cafe, except this time, it appears that Laito is the one filled with longing, not me.

“Shall we walk around a little?” I ask.

At my words, Laito nods. His lips turn up into a smile, and suddenly, it's as if a veil has been lifted from his face. “Walk around, you say? Are you perhaps suggesting that we go under the trees and do _naughty_ things together with all these people nearby? That's so devious of you.”

The return of his usual energy is so convincing, it makes me wonder if I was just imagining his expression a moment ago. And yet I can't shake the feeling that I've glimpsed a side of Laito he rarely, if ever, allows to the surface.

“You know that's not what I meant,” I snap.

Laito laughs as if he's going to tease me further, but starts walking instead. We head to one of the stalls selling a selection of tiny pot plants. He runs his eyes over them disinterestedly before dragging me onto the next one.

It's one of those fairground games where you have to hook a floating rubber duck with a long stick for a prize. I remember being good at it whenever my father took me to funfairs as a child.

As he peers at the little shapes, Laito says, “I wonder what it would be like to own a real duck.”

“Probably a lot of mess,” I mumble.

“Mm.”

I get the feeling he's using small talk to cover up his lapse in composure just now, though I could be reading too much into it. Either way, it's hard to be enthusiastic about anything when I feel so uneasy.

I jerk free of his grip.

“Sorry,” I say as he stares at me, “I just need to clear my head.”

I'm already backing away when he nods. To my surprise, he doesn't try to follow me – probably because he realises I can't _really_ go anywhere with Ayato and Kanato in the area.

I turn and walk into the crowd, not caring where I go, so long as I'm away from Laito. I can't do this. I can't go along with his little jokes and pretend everything is all right when it's not. Aside from the day, when I can close my eyes and feign sleep by his side, this is the longest time I've had to interact with him at once for a while. It can't go on like this for much longer: I know I'm only drawing out my own pain by avoiding the subject of Cordelia with him. The thought of my mind just giving all of this up is a fantasy akin to the possibility that I'll wake up tomorrow and be back at the church where I belong, surrounded by people who love and care for me as opposed to a group of vampires who treat me like I'm some kind of walking meal.

I reach a lamppost between two stalls and lean against it with my arm. I wish that there were a way to sink out of sight for just a few moments. There's always the trees, but I wouldn't want any of the triplets to think that I'm trying to run away, so I force myself to remain in full view of the public. I feel like every passer-by can sense my rapid heartbeat, the way I have to keep my eyes on the ground to stop them from darting around madly. My throat is aching again and my head is spinning and _why is it so hot?_ In all my life, I've never known a summer this bad. It's unnatural.

The scent cuts through my thoughts like a razor. Not building up wave by wave, but all at once, as if someone's just opened a container under my nose. It's hard to describe it exactly: a full sweetness with a hint of acridity mixed in, like beef fat and sugar melting together in a pan, yet also nothing like it. After days of barely having an appetite, I sense a pang of emptiness in my stomach for the first time.

Slowly, I straighten up. The stall to my right is a food stand serving various udon dishes. I'm certain the smell is coming from there. I take a few steps forward and look at the chefs working at the back, the trays of noodles and vegetables laid out behind the sheet of sheet, and suddenly I'm ravenous. For a moment, I assume it's the food that's inspiring such hunger in me, but then my eyes fall on one of the chefs. He's holding a tissue over his finger and wincing. When he pulls it back, my heart drops.

He's cut the end of his finger with a knife. I watch, mesmerised, as a red bead grows at the tip and slides down before he mops it up with the tissue. There's no mistake. It's the blood I can smell.

The world grinds to a halt around me. Nothing exists in the moment but me and the blood I can sense oozing out even now. I take a step back. All of a sudden, I've forgotten how to breathe.

A hand grabs me by the shoulder and shakes, snapping me from my trance. I turn to see Ayato standing before me. His figure shimmers a little, like he's standing underwater.

“You okay, Chichinashi? You're acting weird again.” He skewers a takoyaki from the huge box he's holding and shoves it into his mouth.

“I'm fine,” are the only words I can bring myself to gasp. It's all happening again. My body is starting to grow heavy, just like that time in the kitchen when Ayato told me Cordelia was his mother.

I break into a run, pushing Ayato out of the way as I pass. I'm not sure where I'm headed, only that I have to get as far away from this place as possible. My legs are weighted. If I don't keep moving, they'll drag me to the ground.

People stare at me as I weave through them. I'm pretty certain I bump a few of them with my shoulders, judging by the amount of angry whispers I receive. Not that I care. All that matters is getting away from Ayato and the smell of the blood that still lingers strong in my memory.

It's not until I reach the arch where we entered the festival that I finally hit the floor.

I can tell I've gathered a crowd. I feel their eyes on me like dead weights, hear their mutters and speculations. All of it washes over my head. Then, pushing his way to the front, a familiar figure appears.

Laito calls out my name as he sinks down beside me and wraps an arms around my waist. I don't want him anywhere near me, but I can't pull away.

The words fall from my mouth before I can stop them: “Who's Cordelia?”

Laito stiffens. The action only makes me more impatient. No longer caring who's watching, I grab him by the sleeve and shout, “Who is she, Laito? Tell me.”

Laito's wide eyes are the last thing I see before the world grows hazy. My head hits the ground, and then I'm slipping into the cold embrace of nothingness.

**PART 1: APPREHENSION**

**END**


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